


The Girl Named Mouse

by SomewhatSlightlyDazed



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (Comics), The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 10:20:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10695015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomewhatSlightlyDazed/pseuds/SomewhatSlightlyDazed
Summary: Mouse is a quiet girl living in an old hotel with Negan’s pre-Saviors group of survivors. She can’t seem to reconcile her attraction to a man who she finds equally charming and horrifying...even when he takes a very personal interest in her.





	The Girl Named Mouse

“Hiya, Mouse.”

Negan’s grin was shark-like and predatory as he stopped to greet a small woman with light brown hair in the hotel’s narrow hallway. In the harsh fluorescent lighting, his teeth appeared too white and too straight, and he stood just a bit too close to her, the smell of the soap he used filling her nose and making her head ache.

Sandra felt her eyes widen as she squeaked out a faint, “Hi,” that was barely audible, even in the silence of the empty hall, before casting her eyes downward to stare at her shoes.

Her shyness and near-inability to speak confidently had earned her the nickname “Mouse” amongst their group of survivors. She hated both the name and her failure to overcome her shyness, even in the wake of the apocalypse; however, she couldn’t deny that the nickname suited her all too well. She was, after all, just a little mouse standing next to a giant beast that loomed over her.

“What’s shakin’, Mousey?” he punctuated the final word, drawing it out in a way that annoyed her and caused her brows to knit together.

“N-nothing much,” she said quietly. Her dark eyes flitted to his for an instant before landing on the wall just to the side of his face.

“Nothing, huh?”

He took a step toward her, causing her to move backward until she hit the hard plaster of the wall behind her. A short cry escaped her lips.

“Well, god-fucking-dammit, Mouse! That’s the most noise I think I’ve ever heard you make!” his grin widened as he moved forward again until their bodies were nearly touching, “It’s actually a little sexy. I bet that’s just what you sound like when you cum, isn’t it?”

“I-I...” her mouth opened and closed in astonishment like a dying fish while she felt her entire body turn red with embarrassment.

She had met Negan only a few weeks prior when Dwight had brought him into the group after finding him alone in the woods. At first, she hadn’t minded him too much. As a matter of fact, she hardly noticed his presence initially because he had decided to distance himself from the members of the group until they “proved that they could make it through the week without being fucking eaten”, as he so delicately put it. 

Eventually, he must have decided that they were worth getting to know when the week passed and they were all still alive. Shortly after that, he and Dwight had found the hotel while hunting for the group’s next meal. It was really more of a resort, sitting buried amongst the trees in the middle of nowhere. Sandra supposed that it must have been a pretty upscale place at one point; the kind of place where rich folks went to “get away from it all”. But to her, it felt more like the Overlook hotel from The Shining. Every time she rounded a corridor, she expected to see little girls in blue dresses hacked to pieces or a man with an axe coming at her.

“Awe fuck, Mousey. You’re so cute when you fucking blush like that,” his voice, now lowered to a rumble, jolted her back to the present as he brought one of his enormous hands up to her face and pushed a loose strand of her hair behind one of her ears, “Why don’t you and I have a little fun, Mouse? Go back to your room, take our fucking clothes off, get into bed and fuck each other’s brains out for a bit?”

Sandra took in a shaky breath, her stomach turning over in a mix of arousal and fear. There was no denying that Negan was attractive. Now that he had access to running water and razors, he kept himself impeccably clean shaven, finally revealing the broad, square jawline and devilish smile that had been hidden beneath the bushy beard he had sported when they first met.

There was also no denying that he was much larger and stronger than her. She knew that if he decided that he wanted to fuck her badly enough, there wasn’t much she could do to stop him. The idea both horrified and aroused her in a way that made her immediately uncomfortable.

“Negan, I…” her voice trailed off as if all of the life had gone out of her as she spoke.

“Come on, Mouse,” he placed a hand against the wall just to the right of her head, making her feel trapped like the proverbial rat in the cage, “I’ll be gentle. Let’s just have some fun and forget about the miserable fucking world for a bit, ok? God, you’re so fucking cute, Mouse,” his face lowered toward hers slightly and she saw his eyes darken.

“N-no!” the word came out much more forcefully than she had intended, and caused Negan’s body to jerk away from hers abruptly while his eyes widened.

“You sure, Mouse? I mean, I totally fucking respect that and all, and I’d never want to make you do something you’re fucking uncomfortable with. I just thought that I was getting some ‘come put your huge throbbing man-meat in me, Negan’ vibes from you. That’s all.”

“I’m sure! Sorry!” she said quickly, stepping to the side and out from between his body and the wall.

“Ok! No fucking problem, little Mouse. Just wanted to offer you a ride on the ol’ baloney pony, if you were so inclined. No hard feelings.”

“Ok. Good,” she muttered quietly as she began to walk back toward her room, her head lowered and her face still hot and red at his words.

“Catch you later, Mouse!” he called after her cheerfully before strolling away from her while whistling, his hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans.

She watched him round the corner before rushing back to her room with her heart in her throat, simultaneously feeling like a small creature that had miraculously escaped a predator, and the world’s biggest idiot. As soon as the door closed behind her, she felt the tension leave her body an instant before she began to chastise herself.

Why hadn’t she just said yes? What did she have to lose? He hadn’t been wrong: She really did want to fuck him. She knew it, and so did he. So why the fuck did she turn him down?

Sighing deeply, Sandra slumped onto her bed and closed her eyes. She imagined him over her, his huge arms holding her wrists together above her head while he fucked her, planting warm kisses against her shoulders and neck.

Why was she such a coward? Why didn’t she say yes?

***

Piercing laughter ripped Sandra from a long nap, reverberating in her brain. She opened her eyes slowly, and allowed them to adjust to the fading light of early evening that streamed into her room from outside. She must have fallen asleep after her encounter with Negan in the hallway.

Stretching slightly, she pushed herself out of bed and padded across the room to the window, which overlooked the courtyard below. Standing just below her window were Negan and Sherry. From her high vantage point on the top floor of the building, she couldn’t make out what they were saying, but their body language was unmistakable.

Negan had his hand pressed against the wall to the right of Sherry’s head, just as he had done with her only a few hours earlier. Leaning in close, he whispered something in Sherry’s ear which elicited another round of loud, shrill laughter from the woman. Sherry swatted at him playfully before practically screaming, “Negan! You are bad!” loud enough to Sandra to hear each syllable clearly.

Sherry was Dwight’s wife. She was also a huge opportunist who would climb any social ladder she had to in order to secure a comfortable spot for herself; including, it seemed, Negan’s ladder. Now that he was slowly taking over Dwight’s role as leader of their group, Sandra supposed it was only a matter of time before he took the man’s wife too.

As if propelled by her thoughts, Negan brought a hand up to tuck a strand of Sherry’s hair behind her ear, just as he had done earlier with Sandra. Feeling as though all of the saliva had been sucked out of her mouth, she closed her eyes and slunk away from the window. She had seen enough.

The man had memorized more seductive choreography than a 90s boy band. The thought that she had even entertained the notion that he thought she was special for a fleeting moment made her feel stupid and angry. But she would never do anything about the anger. She would sulk in her room for a while, and avoid him until the feelings of stupidity abated. He would fuck Sherry, and Dwight would be pissed, then the group would adjust, and life would go on.

But it could have been me.

This thought repeated in her head over and over, taunting her. She lay down in her stark, white hotel bed again and closed her eyes. The image of him over her, his huge body pressed against hers, as he fucked her into the bed played in her mind’s eye. His dark, warm eyes staring down at her intently…then his mouth lowering to hers, muffling her screams…his own moans mingling with hers…

And then suddenly it wasn’t a fantasy. Sandra’s eyes sprang open as the sound of moans and half-muffled cries began very near to her. The sound of Negan’s deep voice was so distinctive that there was no mistaking that the growls of pleasure she heard were his. They combined with Sherry’s equally idiosyncratic, high-pitched squeals. So much for sneaking around and being discreet.

They were fucking in the room directly beside hers. Of all the rooms in the hotel they could have chosen, of course they picked that one. A particularly sharp gasp from Sherry followed by a long moan caused Sandra to see red for a moment. Instead of saying anything or making her presence known, she rolled over and faced the wall beside her bed, glaring coldly and allowing her disappointment and dismay build.

It could have been me.

But it wasn’t you, Sandra. Another voice in her head, this one more critical than the last. You were too much of a chicken shit to say yes. So, here you are: laying in a hotel room and listening to the man you want to fuck as he fucks someone else. And this will always be your life because you’re just a little mouse.

And the voice was right. She was just a little mouse, and Sherry was a predator. Just like Negan. They deserved each other. They belonged in this world of savagery and death. This was their domain.

She would do what mice always do: she would hide and cower, living her life in their shadows, thankful for every day that they didn’t rip her to shreds. And maybe she could survive in this world as a mouse. But was that really living?

And had her life before the world ended really been all that different, for that matter? She cowered at parties and hid from social functions. She stood in the shadows of people like Sherry and Negan during business meetings and networking events. The world had changed, but she hadn’t. She never would.

She would always be just a little mouse standing next to a giant beast that loomed over her.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for @grab-my-boner‘s 1K Writing Challenge. My prompt was the song Queen Bitch by David Bowie.


End file.
